A woman and her apartment, where silently we found ourselves locked up in, feeding with our obsessive gaze her to-be-seen-obsession, although the film pretence lets her see as lonely in there. In doubt whether we are present at trivial everyday gestures or at the depraved representation by a lunatic, whether our eye is slave to desire or slave to her manipulation. A hall of mirrors where boundaries between victim and torturer, show and audience, film time and reality time, they overlap and fade into one another
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